Over the next month I went on many a dates with different guys that my siblings had each hand picked for me. My youngest sister, Lorena's pick was, Ethan Gutierrez, was from New Jersey and worked part time as a personal chef and part time as a bar tender at a night club, who also had a habit of spitting after each sentence. Mmm no. Next my brother Alex set me up with Daniel Vargas, a co-worker of mine at Texas Tribune, he worked in the mail room. Sorry no. Next was Hank MiCarlo, who smelled like an ash tray and was a health inspector. Nope. Though my worst one was Trey Ferris who literally brought his mother everywhere. Sorry I love my mom too, but I don't need her to cut my food and feed it to me.
Finally, the horrible game was over, and I was back to being judged silently. Though the pressure was off, I felt saddened because I had, no stroke of luck to possibly finding someone in this twisted scheme. I guess my friends felt bad because the next week Ezra, Tony, and our friends Selena, Don, and my brother Sebastian took me out to one of the more decent night clubs. As I was trying to look for something to wear, something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Hidden behind a rack of clothes was a large black box, and instantly I knew what it was. It was one of Jame's old boxes that we'd filled with all our memories. I knew I shouldn't have, but I walked over towards it and opened the box. Inside were dozens of pictures and little love notes he'd written me during our creative writing class. There were millions of movie ticket stubs, and every birthday, Christmas, card we'd ever given each other. As well as little souvenirs from our little vacations we'd taken together.
There was even a dried lily I'd kept from our first date, the bottle of his favorite cologne and one of the sweaters I'd kept of his. There was also a scrape book his mum had made for me on Christmas of every single picture we'd ever had taken together. There were some old letter amongst other things, but then I saw it. The envelope the nurse had give me that horrible night. I was on the verge of tears, when my phone rang, and I shut the box and stuffed it back into the vortex of my closet.
"Hello?" I answered on the third ring.
"Hey gurl! Where are you? We are here!" Ezra's voice came shouting on the other side.
"I'll be out in a minute." I said before hanging up.
I changed into my nicest top and dark jeans, grabbed my wallet and keys then locked my house and went to join my friends who were already tipsy by the time I climbed into the cab. We arrived at the club and instantly I was pulled into the fun. Drinks kept coming and everyone was dancing. I kept a close eye on Ezra, because once he started drinking, there was not telling what he would do next. It wasn't even ten and already I wanted to go home and lay in bed with my dog. I was sitting at the bar alone, and even though I danced with all my friends, they still each had someone. I was currently sipping my Long Island tea, when the bar tender placed an extremely fruity and frilly drink in front of me.
"It's from the gentleman, down the bar." He said with a wink.
Confused I turned in my seat to see who the highly mistaken man was, until a familiar face waved to me on from the last stool. It was non other that Art Carrol, still smiling as always.